


three kisses

by OnyxSphinx



Category: Alex Rider (TV 2020), Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28745013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/OnyxSphinx
Summary: Two times Tom kissed Alex as a friend and one time he kissed him as something more
Relationships: Tom Harris/Alex Rider
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	three kisses

The first time Tom kisses Alex, they’re seven. The rain’s been pouring outside for days, making everything muddy, but it’s finally let up, and the sun’s shining; and Tom’s parents are going through a good patch for the first time in ages, so when he begs them to let him go to the park with Alex, they let him.

He grabs his bike and hops on, making his way over to Alex’s; the brownstone rising just two stories, and hops off his bike, knocking quickly. A few moments later the door opens. “Tom,” Jack greets. She’s smiling. “You’re here for Alex?”

“Yeah.” Tom nods. “I want to go to the park with him. Can he come?”

“He’s done his chores for the day, so yeah,” Jack says. “Just so long as you guys are back by sunset.”

Tom grins. “Great,” he says, “can I come in?”

Jack moves aside to let him through; and he practically races upstairs to Alex’s room; pausing just outside the door so he can silently open it and try and creep in.

Alex, who’s sitting at his desk, playing a video game, notices him before he can get the drop on him. “Tom!” he exclaims. “What are you doing here?”

Tom ignores his question. “What game’s that?” he demands, peering over the other’s shoulder.

Alex sighs. “It’s the new Sonic,” he says. “I was gonna invite you over to play it but I couldn’t remember your house phone. And I didn’t want your parents to get mad at you or something.”

Tom deflates slightly. “Okay,” he says. “Um. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go out to the park, but if you’re busy…”

“No!” Alex shakes his head. “No, I want to go to the park with you.”

Tom feels a smile steal across his face. “Okay,” he says. “Do you want to take a football with us, or?”

Alex hums. “No, let’s take the camera instead,” he decides. “It’s spring, and I want to take some photos of the birds and stuff. If you don’t mind,” he adds, hastily. “We can take the football if you really want to.”

Tom shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he says. “I don’t even want to play football that much. Let’s take the camera like you said. Do you have film for it?”

“Uh huh. I can put it in the backpack and we can take some snacks with us too.”

“Wicked,” Tom says; holding his fist out to Alex; and, laughing, the other bumps it. “Okay, let’s go.”

Alex grabs his bike from the back and brings it around to the front, and they make their way to the park.

They spend a while running around the trees, taking photos of birds; and Alex even finds a bird’s nest for them to photograph, though it requires them climbing to the top of a pretty tall tree. They make it just fine though, and the photo of the baby-blue eggs in the nest is perfect.

“Hey, Tom, look!” Alex calls, from where he’s run off to the other side of the playground. Tom makes his way over to the other’s side. “I think it’s abandoned,” Alex whispers to him, pointing to a wasp’s nest on the ground; the intricate, papery combs half smashed on one side, but perfectly preserved on the other. “We should take a photo,” he says, approaching it.

“Alex, I wouldn’t do that,” Tom warns. “There might still be wasps in it.”

“Oh, don’t be a scaredy-cat,” Alex reproaches. “I bet it’s fine—” he reaches out to pick it up; and just then, a wasp crawls out of it, and onto his hand. Alex freezes. “Tom,” he hisses, “get it off of me!”

“Just a sec,” Tom hisses back, hunting for a stick; finally finds one, and goes to brush the wasp off the other’s hand. Unfortunately, his hand’s not quite steady enough; and he accidentally pushes too hard. Startled, the wasp stabs downwards, and Alex lets out a cry of pain, bursting into tears and sitting down hard on the ground.

“My hand,” he wails, and Tom drops to the ground by his side, blowing on it in an attempt to try and relieve the pain on the affected area.

“It’s going to be alright,” he says, “look, here, I'll—I’ll make sure it’s alright.” He leans forward, kissing the quickly-swelling, reddened patch of skin. “There,” he says.

Alex’s stopped crying, and he sniffles. “You’re sure it’s going to be alright?” he asks; voice teary.

Tom nods. “Uh huh. Trust me, it’s magic.”

Alex offers a tremulous smile, and squeezes his hand. “Okay,” he says.

* * *

The second time Tom kisses Alex, they’re sixteen.

He doesn’t realise that it’s a clone, at first. He just thinks Alex is acting weird; he’s just gotten back from his top secret spy mission, and Tom knows something went wrong in there, despite what Alex tells him about it being fine, and whatever it is obviously affected him pretty badly, no matter how he tries not to let it on.

Still, this is new.

He hadn’t really expected Alex to corner him and begin asking him things a fucking maniac would say—"Did it hurt? Were you afraid? Did you think you were going to die?“ It’s fucking creepy, is the point; and he makes a point to let Alex know it the next time he sees him.

Alex, for his part, seems surprised, which should be his first hint that something’s going on. He ignores it, though, too angry at Alex to notice.

And then Alex—Not-Alex, that is, is standing over him with the pole he unscrewed to use as a bat, and Tom’s arm and ribs are screaming from the beating he’s taken. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he hisses, trying to crawl away.

Not-Alex sneers at him. “You’re his weakness,” he says. “I’m going to make him pay for what he did to me.”

“Okay, maniac,” Tom wheezes. Not-Alex’s eyes narrow.

He hefts the improvised bat in one hand. “Time’s up,” he sneers, and begins to bring down the bat. Just then, Alex—the real Alex, and Tom could cry—bursts in.

What follows is in parts a chase and a fight and then, at the end, a shoot out. Someone takes Not-Alex down, leaving Alex to pull Tom into a tight hug and then loosen it when Tom hisses, “Careful with the arm, mate!”

Since his arm’s busted up, they call Jack to come pick them up. She arrives within ten minutes, looking worried. “Alex?” she questions.

Tom nods. “It’s him,” he confirms.

Jack slumps slightly with relief. “Thank God,” she says. “Let’s get you guys home.”

Home means the Rider residence; it has for the past few years. Practically every moment Tom doesn’t spend in school for the last few years has been spent at Alex’s. His parents have been going through a rough patch—Tom thinks they might get divorced. Fucking finally.

When they get inside, Alex leads him up to his room; pushes him towards the bed, and then sits down by his side. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I can’t believe I let that happen to you. I should have known—”

“Hey,” Tom says, sternly. “You literally couldn’t have known, okay? Quit blaming yourself.”

“But I knew they were trying to clone me,” Alex protests, “and they didn’t find the clone in the compound—”

“Alex.” Tom puts a hand on his leg. “It’s not your fault, okay. Stop blaming yourself.”

They sit there for a few moments, breathing in sync, and then Alex shifts; looking hesitant, and Tom knows what he wants; so he pulls him into a hug, as tight as he can bear, with his ribs bruised. Alex tucks his head against Tom’s neck, and Tom feels warmth at the action; and before he can stop himself, he’s pressing a kiss to the top of Alex’s head.

Alex doesn’t mention it, thank god, just holds him tighter.

* * *

The third time, Tom’s in his third year of college. He’s in the middle of trying to read the chapter of reading assigned to them for his lit course when a tall, young man, with light brown hair, dressed in a dark turtleneck and slacks enters the library, making a bee-line for him.

He sits across Tom; and clears his throat. “Hey,” he says, and Tom, who hadn’t been able to pin down who he was up until he opened his mouth, instantly realises who it is: Alex Rider. He offers a lopsided smile. “Long time no see.”

“You bastard,” Tom hisses, slamming his book shut. “I haven’t heard from you in almost a year.”

He looks sheepish; good. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to disappear like that. It was work stuff, you know how it gets.”

He does, actually, since they’ve been sending him out on missions since he was sixteen. It’s been hell for all of them—Tom’s surprised Alex managed to graduate properly, and alive, at that. Since then, since he’s become an adult, they’ve been sending him on longer and longer missions.

Tom sighs. “Let’s go for coffee,” he suggests.

Alex frowns at him. “I thought you were studying.”

“Was being the key word. Now I need a cuppa. Come on.” He throws his books into his messenger bag; stands; and makes his way out of the library. Alex follows obediently after him, for once, without argument.

They make their way to the coffee-shop down the block from the library; a small, out of the way place, hidden behind a larger building—a gym of some sort; Tom’s never been inside. He orders a tea for himself, black, and dumps in two packets of sugar and some creamer. Alex gets a small coffee, and drinks it black.

“That’s got to be disgusting,” Tom says. “How can you stand it?”

Alex shrugs. “Acquired taste,” is all he says; and goes back to the coffee. They sit, side by side, in silence for a long, long beat, and then Alex finally says, “I came to see you.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to let you know—” he hesitates. “I wanted to let you know that I’m sorry for not telling you before I took off last time. It was a rush job. And I came to say that I’m leaving again—I don’t know how long, but it’s deep cover, so probably a year at least.”

“Oh.” Tom swallows, thickly. “So I won’t be seeing you, then?”

Alex shakes his head. “Not for a while.” Then, hesitant, he reaches out and places a hand over Tom’s. “I wanted to say I’m going to miss you.”

There’s a hidden implication in his words; and it takes a few moments for Tom to parse it; but once he does, he says, “I—” and then stops; swallows again; not sure what to say. In the end, he settles for turning his hand over and squeezing Alex’s.

Then they rise, and stand awkwardly for a moment, before Alex says, “Well, I should go,” and turns to leave.

“Wait,” Tom calls. Their hands are still connected. He pulls Alex back to him; leans up to press a lingering kiss to his lips. “For good luck,” he says, voice more even than he thought might be possible. His hand’s still in Alex’s, and it seems absurdly warm; and he suddenly worries about sweating all over Alex’s hand.

Alex’s face breaks into a grin; and he says, “Thanks.” And then: “I might need lots of luck, though.”

Tom laughs, and pulls him back in for a kiss, and then another; their hands tangled together. They’re lucky they’re in the back of the shop, hidden from the other customers by a dividing wall.

When they pull apart, Tom says, “I didn’t ever think I’d get to do that.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” Alex says, firmly; and then, softer, “I have to go now.”

“Okay,” Tom says; and Alex pulls their hands apart and disappears out of the shop, leaving him with just the memory of Alex’s hand in his own, and his lips on Tom’s.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [autisticharrow](https://autisticharrow.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
